


The Prince in the Tower

by TheMalhamBird



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7513157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMalhamBird/pseuds/TheMalhamBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ONCE THERE LIVED A KING WHOSE BROTHER SOUGHT TO USURP HIM, and a Queen who had one son and had no need of a second who might follow in his uncle’s footsteps- but had one nevertheless....</p>
<p>To prevent him from growing up to overthrow his brother, Queen Anne imprisons the young Prince Phillipe in a Tower where no one will ever stumble across him. Of course, her plans hadn't taken in to account a certain Chevalier with a knack for getting mixed up with things he shouldn't...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prince in the Tower

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching In To the Woods at the same time as scrolling through Versailles stuff on twitter and tumblr and...this happened. Enjoy it!

 

**ONCE THERE LIVED A KING WHOSE BROTHER SOUGHT TO USURP HIM, and a Queen who had one son and had no need of a second who might follow in his uncle’s footsteps- but had one nevertheless. In an ordinary kingdom, in an ordinary time, this would not have been a problem: power can be curbed, and younger brothers can be raised to love and to serve their elder brother.**

**But this was not an ordinary kingdom, and this was not an ordinary time.**

**Phillipe had been christened mere hours after he was born, and in private, and the Court had felt itself cheated. The birth of a Prince was cause for celebration, the Christening of said Prince the traditional occasion of the celebration- even if Phillipe was not the Dauphin, he was still a Child of France; his arrival was an excuse for revelry that the Court didn’t need but would grasp anyway.**

**Thus, the King announced that his second son would be presented to the Court, with less pomp and circumstance than his first had been presented to the Court with, but with pomp and circumstance nevertheless. Every noble of worth would be invited- every noble of worth would be expected to attend-**

**-But not the King’s brother.**

**Not the brother who had tried, time and time again, to unseat his King, to challenge Louis XIII the way no one else would dare.**

**Gaston, Duc d’Orleans, was not welcome.**

**Gaston, Duc d’Orleans, was not invited.**

**He turned up anyway.**

 [ _Château de Saint-Germain-en-Laye_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ch%C3%A2teau_de_Saint-Germain-en-Laye) _; September 1640_

The ballroom glittered with the light of a thousand candles and hummed with the buzz of a hundred conversations. Music threaded through the room, strings and flutes mixing with laughter and the rustle of silk skirts, and Phillipe’s happy gurgling as he made a grab for his mother’s rings. His small fist clenched tight around Queen Anne’s little finger, Phillipe did his best to stuff the digit in his mouth, but Anne jerked her hand back. Phillipe wailed indignantly, face scrunching, and clung on more tightly. The ladies surrounding Anne laughed and fussed; Anne pulled a face and worked her finger free; Phillipe’s face cleared and he cooed triumphantly as he waved his clenched fist in the air, his mother’s ring hidden safely inside.

“Isn’t he a darling!”

Content with his prize, Phillipe settled down, and Anne handed him over to Francoise de Souvre, who was besieged instantly by the Dauphin.

“I hold Baby, Madame?” Louis asked, tugging his governesses’ skirt and looking up at her beseechingly. “Please?”

“You are too little, your highness,” Francoise said lightly, but she knelt down so that Louis could see his brother more easily. Anne smiled indulgently, inwardly grinning in triumph. Her strategy was simple: Phillipe would play second fiddle to Louis, always, even when it was Phillipe who was supposed to be the centre of attention, and it was working. More fussing and cooing from the ladies, this time about how sweet the Dauphin was, how good to take such an interest in his baby brother rather than be jealous over the attention the baby was getting, and Anne knew that Louis offering his finger to little Phillipe and whispering hello over and over would be the talk of the Court for weeks. Louis, Louis, Louis. Everything must be about her eldest child, it was the best way to keep him safe. Anne loved her youngest, of course she did, but she loved her eldest more.

And a small part of her had been longing for a girl.

Phillipe wasn’t interested in Louis’ finger, there was nothing shiny on it. He reached up for his brother’s face instead, smacking the Dauphin on the nose and laughing. Louis grabbed his hand. “No,” he commanded, “Bad.”; Phillipe yowled and kicked out, trying to tug his hand free. “Bah!” he shouted. “Bah-“Louis let his brother’s hand go; Phillipe promptly took another swipe at his face and Francoise rose hurriedly, giving the young prince a slight shake. Phillipe began to grizzle. Anne knelt down and fussed with the lace on Louis’ gown.

“My sweet boy,” she cooed, placing a kiss on top of Louis’ curls before ruffling his hair. She opened her mouth to praise him for taking an interest in his brother- but thunder and lightning crashed through the middle of the ballroom and stunned her in to silence. The same silence settled over the room like dust after an explosion, as black smoke writhed and twisted in to the tall, slender form of the Duc d’Orleans.

Anne pulled Louis close to her skirts; King Louis XIII rose from his throne and walked slowly to the centre of the room, towards his wife and towards his brother, heels clicking on the wooden floor. Gaston raised his eyebrows as the King approached. Louis came to a halt a few feet away from him, and Gaston bowed sardonically. “My brother. I wanted to give my blessings to my youngest nephew; my invitation to do so got lost, I assume. I can think of no other reason why I was excluded from the celebrations here.”

“Your sorcery would be reason enough, Monsieur, your treason-“

“Treason? I have never committed treason, brother-“

“You plotted against Cardinal Richelieu-“

“I was not aware that Cardinal Richelieu had been king, brother,” Gaston paused, eyes roaming idly over the court. “Not _officially_ king, at any rate, and it’s only treason if it is against the _official_ king, not the de facto one.”

King Louis flushed an ugly shade of puce and clenched his fists. “You are not welcome, brother. You cared not when our heir was born, why come now, for-“

“For the spare?” Gaston’s lips curved and he bared his teeth. The candles flickered as a strange wind whistled round the halls. “Why brother- _that_ is why I have come.”

His eyes slid from his brother and across to the rest of his family- dear Anne, as resplendent and glacial as always; her eldest whelp clinging to her skirt looking sickeningly wide eyed and innocent, dark ringlets framing his sweet little face. And on Anne’s other side, in the arms of a woman who could only be the royal Governess, was the other royal whelp. Gaston’s grin widened and he stalked towards the Governess, who flinched back but otherwise made no protest as he wrested the child from her arms and cradled it in his own. “Phillipe, I read in the Gazette,” he declaimed, “imagine making me learn of my own nephew’s name in the Gazette, honestly brother, this sort of thing is what makes me feel like you don’t love me.” His jiggled Phillipe up and down, eyes falling on Phillipe’s small, tightly clenched fist as he did so. “And what have you got there, little one? A present for your uncle?” Phillipe stared up at him with wide eyes, then suddenly opened his fingers to reveal a small silver ring before clenching his fist tight again to hide his treasure. Gaston laughed loudly, the sound echoing around the hall. “Oh, sweeting. You hear what your papa calls you?  He calls you his spare.” Gaston began to pace back and forth, affecting to speak solely to Phillipe but talking so that the whole court might hear. “Your papa won’t love you. Your mama won’t love you, not the way they love your brother, if at all. I should know, mine were just the same. They’ll do everything they can to keep you from power, to make you feel worthless, to make you _be_ and they’ll succeed if no one stops them. But that’s what you’ve got your uncle Gaston for, isn’t it?” Gaston turned back to lock eyes with his brother, then placed a hand above Phillipe’s head and smiled as he made himself glow with emerald fire. “Shall I write your destiny, nephew? I shall give you a great one. You will grow up strong and healthy. And you will kill your brother and take his crown for yourself.” Empty words; Gaston could not fix the future- nobody could. Magic was nothing but a handful of tricks. Cardinal Richelieu had known that- that was why the old goat had dared to exile him. Twice. But Richelieu was dead now, and his brother was a fool. Whatever action Louis took now could only damage him: he would seem too soft or too harsh, he would not be able to win in the eyes of the Court, just as Gaston had never been able to win in his youth. Let Louis see how he liked it, let it destroy him. He thrust his nephew back at the governess, and made himself vanish, content with the knowledge that he had undone his brother’s rule.

The Court broke into loud whispers and worried chattering as Gaston vanished in to thin ear; Francoise turned to Anne, holding Phillipe at arms’ length with a stricken expression. “My Queen-“

“Silence!” Louis roared.

The court fell still once more. Phillipe, upset by his father’s yelling, broke the silence with a long wail and burst in to noisy tears.

“This means nothing!” Louis yelled/ “My brother seeks to sow discord and suspicion! He seeks to undermine my rule! We will not allow him to do so. We will not speak of this. Continue your celebrating- a child of France has been born. Celebrate, damn you!” He glared around the room.

The musicians picked up their instruments and hesitantly began to play again. Stilted, false conversations started. Anne turned to Louis: “Husband-“

“It means nothing,” Louis growled.

It meant more than nothing. However Anne considered it- Gaston’s curse meant something. At the very least, it meant that the idea Phillipe would challenge his brother’s future had been planted; opportunists would use that to manipulate both her children.

However Anne considered it, Phillipe was a threat to the future security of France- a threat that, for little Louis’ sake, she had to remove. Her earlier plans would not stand up to the possibility of magic; Phillipe could not be kept subservient in plain sight.

He could not remain with the Court.

**THE QUEEN THOUGHT LONG AND HARD ON HOW TO BEST RESOLVE HER PROBLEM. FOR THE CHILD to disappear too suddenly would raise suspicion in a Court already whispering and besides, the King her Husband had forbidden her to take action. And so for the next four years, Phillipe grew alongside his brother. They played together, and learnt together, and adored each other, until one day the King fell sick, and Phillipe likewise- and the Queen saw her chance.**

**She took Phillipe to a tower, far away from Court- near the hunting lodge at Versailles which was used only sparsely, and only by her husband and his closest friends. There she hid him, and she told the Court he had died. The King passed away from the fever and so the Court believed, and mourned- and celebrated the ascension of Louis XIV to the Throne of France.**

**The years passed.**

**The Boy-King grew in to a young man, energetic and bright and full of ambition. Phillipe knew nothing but the inside of his tower room. Once, he had run down the steps of the tower and out to greet his mother, who visited frequently; in her fury she had struck him across the face and dragged him back to his room; she locked the door at the top of the stairs and boarded up the one at the bottom. She climbed the tower instead, using her son’s raven hair as a robe to help her climb.**

**The years continued to pass.**

**Louis XIV believed he had no brother, and so he sought one of his own making, surrounding himself with the young men of his noble families. They played together and revelled together and hunted together, and one of these young men was named the Chevalier de Lorraine…**

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought in the comments and/or come and say hi at themalhambird.tumblr.com :-)


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